


A Christmas to Remember

by Ee_vvaa



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Merry Christmas, people need to work on timing, rip jager, some subtle shipping, tis the season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:50:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ee_vvaa/pseuds/Ee_vvaa
Summary: It’s Christmas time and all the operators are celebrating the holiday with a party! Glaz is finding it very hard to get close or even have one good moment with our favourite hunter, Kapkan. Good luck Glaz, you're going to need it!





	A Christmas to Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiki_92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_92/gifts).



> My gift to my Secret Santa, the one and only [kiki_92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_92/pseuds/kiki_92) I was overjoyed when I found out I got you and gosh, I hope you enjoyed the fic! I tried to involve all your ships and even though some are really subtle! Merry Christmas sweetness, I hope that you had an incredible time during the festive holiday! <3
> 
> HUGE thank you to my cousin who beta/proof read this fic for me, you're a real champ!

Joyous Christmas songs softly resonated throughout the mess hall, the many voices of operatives chattering amongst themselves is a lively addition to the sounds he can hear. The delectable warm smell of food wafted in the air, making his mouth salivate every so often, the empty cup of vodka in his grasp long forgotten as he watched his lover – who looked handsomely adorable with a Santa hat adorned on his head – nonchalantly converse with Finka and the oldest Spetsnaz, Tachanka. Glaz sat beside the island table in the kitchen, brilliant blue eyes fixed on Kapkan who just let out a bellow of a laugh - something the hunter rarely did - caused by Tachanka who was probably telling him about the training session he’d just had with the five recruits today. The poor recruits had it rough today with how training went - being pelted by rubber bullets from all angles did not look fun and being smoked by the madman Smoke directly afterwards was even worse! Not to mention the total nightmare of being wrangled by said madman to help. He was glad, somewhat, that the five were a creative bunch, making it easier for Nomad, Ela, and himself when they were given the job to hand-make decorations. The Russian can't deny the fact that they had done a phenomenal job on the bunting and decorating the baubles with unique doodles of each operative, Six and the five included.

Kapkan gained a stunning glow from the sparkling and glittering of Christmas lights, which were gorgeous, sure, but they couldn’t compare to the striking blues of his lover's - the very eyes that he loved to stare into during their more intimate moments where their breaths mingled, scorching hot bodies gliding against one another as limbs desperately searched for things to grasp, the rise in temperature as hums of pleasure filled the room. Even thinking about it caused a dusting of pink to light his cheeks -- it only getting worse as he caught Kapkan staring back in his direction with a Cheshire smirk curled onto those lovely plump lips. Well, great. Kapkan won't be leaving him alone tonight, let alone letting him live down that he was just stupidly gawking at him from afar.

“You are blushing,” a velvety voice crooned, successfully pulling his attention away from Kapkan. Maestro stood next to him, a glass of wine clasped in his hand as he beamed optimistically. “Why are you blushing, hm?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Glaz lied, because obviously like _hell_ he would tell someone what he’s thinking, especially if it involves Kapkan. “Probably just the vodka kicking in.”

“I don’t believe it, but just so you know,” Maestro hummed, leaning down to whisper into the younger man’s ear, “staring won’t help you with anything.” And with that, the Italian man took his leave after a good pat to the back, giving him no chance to respond.

Glaz mauled over the words briefly before hearing Tachanka’s famous bellowing laugh. Glancing over in that direction, he can see the older Russian patting Kapkan’s lower back – much too low for his liking as a matter of fact. He can feel an abrupt surge of annoyance and anger running through his system, slight sadness and confusion following suit as he's clueless as to why. He had never felt this kind of emotion before, let alone its intensity, and he absolutely detests it. Shaking his head to rid himself of the billow of emotions, the sniper leapt off the stool and made his way through the crowd of operators to get some more vodka, but was very much disappointed in finding all the bottles empty, as well as majority of the food bowls. Sighing, he placed his empty cup onto the table and left the mess hall altogether; perhaps some fresh air and a short walk around base would do him some good.

 

The blast of cool air felt divine against his warm skin, the breeze raking through his dark coloured hair and nipping at exposed skin like a lover. Along the pathway, Glaz took note of everything that surrounded him, from the direction the tree leaves blew to the little dew drops on the grass, the way the moon casted shadows with its lights on everything it touched, the twinkling of stars and the colours of each one differing. As he continued his walk, the sounds of crickets chirping accompanied him, and the Russian found himself at a large tree situated just by the shooting range – the very place he went to whenever he needed to clear his mind, to be alone, or to just really think. Taking a seat under its large and strong branches, watching the leaves dance in the wind and feeling the grass sway elegantly and gently against him, Glaz took a big breath of cool air and could feel himself relax as tranquillity took over.

Closing his eyes with his back pressed against the bark of the tree, he allowed himself to feel one with his surroundings and his mind wonder. Tangled limbs danced across his mind again, pleasurable and throaty moans reverberating within the bedroom, a blanket only covering so much of muscular bodies as the heated room’s temperature continued to rise, and then a husky gruff voice groaning out his name: _“Timur.”_

“Timur!” A shake of his shoulder brought him back to life, eyes springing open as blue met blue. “Took you long enough. Don’t sleep outside, you get sick.”

“Maxim?”

“ _что? (What?)_ ”

“What are you doing here?” Glaz questioned, confusion in each word. He looked around to see if anyone else was there but was relieved to find that it was just Kapkan.

“Глупый _(Stupid)_ , I was looking for you,” Kapkan huffs, brows gathered as a frown worked its way onto his face – obviously unimpressed and displeased with the posed query. Glaz only blinked blankly, only causing his lover to sigh heavily before joining him on the ground: “You left and I didn’t know where. So I went to look for you and found you sleeping here.”

“I wasn’t sleeping but was enjoy—”

“You made an interesting face.” A smirk replaced Kapkan’s frown and the statement alone caused Glaz’s face to erupt in red as all form of composure flew straight out the window. He scrambled to find a response but it only resulted in him opening and closing his mouth like fish out of water. “You looked cute. I liked it.”

“You’re mistaken. It is not what you are thinking.”

“Oh? Then _what_ was I thinking, hm, _Timur_?” Kapkan asks, scooting to press their bodies closer. Glaz didn’t move nor back down from how close Kapkan had gotten; in fact, he challenged it and leaned into his lover's touch even more until their faces were only inches apart. Their breaths and scents amalgamated together, the warmth of their bodies felt and the atmosphere surrounding them changing completely into something much more lascivious. Gradually, he could feel himself leaning forward, but just when it was about to get good, someone thought it was a spectacular idea to interrupt – does _no one_ here know about timing!?

“Get a fucking room!” a deep yet surprisingly smooth voice vociferates from afar, followed by the sound of a slap.

“Dom, can you not?” Jäger sighs irritably, displeased by his teammate’s means of garnering attention. 

“Fuck off, Brunsmeier!” Kapkan hollered back, and obviously pissed that they’d gotten interrupted like that. Glaz couldn’t blame him. He’d just have to remember to snipe the German in their next training stimulation; that’ll remind him not to interfere.

“We’re doing Secret Santa now. Thatcher told us to look for you two,” Jäger nonchalantly told the two Russians.

“So unless you want to miss out, please, continue getting into each other's pants.”

“Dom, they will kill you and I won’t stop them.”

“I’d like to see them try,” Bandit retorted with his signature smirk before turning on his heels and making his way back to the mess hall. Jäger only sighed and followed suit, lowkey praying that the two Russians won’t kill his boyfriend even though he deserved it.

Shaking his head, Kapkan stood up and dusted off dirt from his pants before lending a hand to Glaz, who graciously took it. “Remind me to purposely set a trap for Dominic.”

“Only if you tell me where he is so I can headshot him," Glaz quiped, a small smile forming on his lips.

“ _Дa_ , sounds good,” Kapkan agreed, then adds: “We continue _it_ later.” With that, they both followed after the Germans.

 

Arriving back at the mess hall, thing were not as they had expected; it was sort of in a frenzy. Food was flying across the room, landing with a gross ‘splat’ on whichever sad soul was targeted. Drinks were being sloshed against people’s faces or to the floor, causing several to slip -- thank god the vodka was spared though!

 “The hell is goi–”

‘ _SPLAT!_

Glaz was mid-sentence when a ball of mashed potatoes landed square on his chest. It fell off as soon as it made contact, and boy was he not impressed. He could hear Kapkan beside him quietly chuckling at his misfortune, and so like any loving boyfriend would do, he picked up the fallen pile of starch and smashed it onto his lover’s forehead – he fled the scene as soon as it made contact to skin.

“Oh, you’re dead now, Timur.”

Food and drink continued to fly all over the place; it was utter mayhem for the second time that day. He’d only found out recently from Ivan that it had all started when Smoke – as always – had attempted to fling red jelly at Mute, who dodged in time, and missed, which resulted in it landing on the young SAS recruits. The five obviously returned fire, pelting Smoke with whatever remaining content of food they had on their plates, thus starting this food war. Nothing can honestly ever go smoothly here; the God of Mayhem lurks nearby!

The food war only continued for another thirty minutes before a tomato-and-very-saucy-covered Ash screamed for everyone to cease fire, a disgruntled grimace clearly displayed on her face. She then ordered everyone to congregate at the Christmas tree for Secret Santa, the American woman also warning that if the rest of the night did not go smoothly, she would shove Thermite’s sweat-drenched socks down their throats – Thermite threw his hands in the air at the statement and made a disclaimer that his socks were not _that_ gross. Pulse's face said otherwise.

Once all had gathered, one by one, each operator made guesses on who their Secret Santa may have been before their presents were handed out to them. Gleeful smiles could be seen all around, laughter erupting and a jolly vibe filling the room. Twitch shed a couple tears upon receiving her gift from Rook, Maestro grinning widely at his gift from Thatcher, and even Caveira could be seen looking delighted with her gift from Captião.

It was Kapkan’s turn, and Glaz watched him think long and hard on who his Secret Santa was, brows furrowed in concentration as he pondered on names – how adorable. He failed, miserably. The younger Russian walked up to the tree, pulled out his gift, and handed it to his lover, who looked both surprised and delighted.

“Merry Christmas, Maxim,” Glaz beams, watching Kapkan tear through the wrapping and cardboard box. He watched how Kapkan's stunning blue eyes lit up in interest at his gift and a grin sprouted on his lips – the box contained a charm version of Glaz’s OTs-03 marksman rifle and a brand new hunting knife.

“You spoiled me, Timur. _Спасибо (Thank you)_.”

“My turn!” Bandit quickly cuts in before Glaz could say anything, though he knew that the German was very much up to something. He looked excited, _too_ excited. The oldest GSG9 operative went to retrieve his gift from the tree and tossed it to Jäger whose face instantly paled as pure horror could be seen replacing his joyous one. “Here’s yours loser. Good luck opening it.”

And indeed Jäger needed the luck. Bandit had wrapped the _fucking_ thing in multiple layers of wrapping, cling wrap, aluminium foil, tape – duct tape included – and bloody glue. Jäger needed all the luck he can get.

“Are you fucking kidding me Dom? Duct tape?” Jäger scowled, his hands and clothes covered in tape and wrapping. “ _Fucking_ glue, too! Are you kiddi–I hate you! You’re _dead_ to me, Dominic fucking Brunsmeier!”

Bandit could be seen grinning a Cheshire grin from where he stood, beyond delighted at his gift to his boyfriend but probably more so by his handy work than the gift. It took the poor engineer an hour and a half to get through but he was happy with his gift nonetheless – a model plane set that one can build. Huffing, Jäger got up, yanking the remains of his present off of him, and marched straight up to the tree to snatch his gift and threw it to his boyfriend.

“Merry Christmas, asshole,” Jäger said, and if anyone was paying any attention at all, a slight sly smirk could be seen plastered on his face and _oh no_ , this only means war between the two. Everyone watched, very intrigued, as Bandit carefully opened his present, clearly suspicious of the item before him. Seeing as nothing was wrong, he tore right into and then it _happened_. A blast of glitter exploded in his face when he lifted the lid; a colourful array of tiny specs sparkled and shimmered in the light as they landed everywhere. Bandit was now a human disco ball and he was very, _very_ , peeved. “Serve you… wait, Dom, hold on. No, no. You stay-Scheiße!”

“ _You’re_ the dead one _now_ , Marius! Dead, I fucking tell you! Dead!” Bandit howled as he made chase after his boyfriend; the screaming and pleading of Jäger was all that was left that night.

“I can’t believe Jäger is dead,” Blitz announced from the couch, one side of his cheek red and slowly going purple.

“At least it’s by the hand of his boyfriend,” Glaz added, making the whole crowd laugh.

“Alright, that’s it. Party’s over, we’ll clean up in the morning,” Ash declared, and everyone scattered. Some deciding to stay to chat some more, others going for walks, and the rest going to bed. Glaz had decided to go to bed as he felt fatigue slowly creeping up on him; Kapkan had already left when he turned around, probably having the same idea as he did.

 

Opening the door to his room and shutting it quietly, Glaz silently gazed at all the paintings that were lined up against one side of the wall - some were completed while others were left unfinished - beautiful arrays of colours covered that wall. He picked out pieces of diced tomatoes, smears of mash and wiped off sauces that had been thrown at him, the sticky and gooey sensation extremely unpleasant against his fingers. A shower was needed, _very_ much needed indeed. The Russian was about to gather his things when the sound of someone storming down the hall and then abruptly bursting through his door startled and made him drop his things. Kapkan stood at the door, very much out of breath; clasped in his hand was a black velvet box with a little card, the red ribbon dangling between his fingers and palm.

“Oh, you found it quick.”

“Yes I found it. Do you mean it? Do you _really_ mean it?”

“ _Дa_ , I mean it,” Glaz smiled lovingly and warmly. He walked up to a still breathless Kapkan, picked the box out of his lover’s hand, and got down on one knee whilst opening the lid. “Will you marry me, Maxim Basuda?”

Silence. Absolute silence before a quiet sniffle broke it; “Is that even a question?” Kapkan replied, eyes red and teary. Glaz got back to his feet, pulled the ring out, and gently took the older man’s hand to slip the silver band on. Arms wrapped around one another as they shared a meaningful embrace, a few kisses here and there as they cherished the moment tenderly.

“About time you proposed,” a booming voice spoke from the doorway, causing the two to turn. Tachanka grinned ecstatically at the two, arms crossed over his strong chest, looking relaxed while Fuze and Finka stood behind him, both looking very happy at the two, “I would have had to propose if you didn’t.”

“I highly doubt Maxim would say yes,” Glaz retorted, his grasp tightening on his now fiancée.

“Mmm, actually, I would if you took any longer.” The younger of the bunch stared in absolute disbelief at the response. “It was a joke. Of course I wouldn’t.”

Another booming laugh erupts from Tachanka before he took his leave, not before congratulating the two again. Fuze followed suit while Finka stayed to congratulate the couple, making them promise to look after one another and that no matter how tough things may get, to solve the problem together, and to endlessly love each other.

“I need a shower, I feel disgusting,” Glaz announced after Finka left. He could see a cheeky and cunning smile sprouting on Kapkan’s lips. An eyebrow arched in curiosity: “What are you thinking? What are you up to?”

“Well, I was thinking we celebrate by continuing from where we last left off and then shower,” The hunter answers, wrapping an arm around the sniper again. The other hand was busy travelling down Glaz's back and resting on his rear; a gentle squeeze was all he needed.

“I like that idea.”

“ _Хорошо (Good)_. I was hoping you would.” His lover grins before capturing his lips for a passionate kiss that got heated real quick – all their love, desires, and every possible emotion poured into it. Tongues wrestling for dominance, it glides and danced, exploring and claiming the cavern of the other. Hands busy with grabbing muscles before happily resting on the neck to deepen the kiss further, Glaz could feel himself heating up but didn't mind as he was enjoying the moment. This had got to be the best Christmas Glaz had ever had in years, and next year will just be =better with Kapkan now by his side as his fiancée.

Their kiss was cut short, once again, by a voice shrieking aloud throughout the hall of base: “Dom, no! We’re even! Back off you sparkling Twlight vampire!”

“Did you just refer to me as a vampire from _fucking_ Twlight?”

“Scheiße. Dom- No! Have mercy!” Another shrill scream before silence. Jäger's or Bandit's voice never heard again that night, and no one wanted to know what happened.


End file.
